Indecision
by clues2life
Summary: Spike reflects on his increasingly complicated problem. WARNING very mild SLASH


I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Joss, please don't sue! This is my first post, so please read and review!!  
  
Indecision  
  
He leaned over the bed and whispered, "I love you" the three words that he would never say again hung in the air long after he left the room. There was no way that He could stay when the craving had started again. Even his love was not safe when he craved the taste of blood. It pumped so warm and fresh through his lover's veins and she could see it beneath the thin flesh that could tear so easily and bring satisfaction to his craving, his desire. "NO" Spike shook his head violently to clear the thoughts of sex and blood that crowded his mind. He had been able to keep a thin veneer of control during sex but now he had to give in or go mad, so He did what predators for centuries had done- He hunted.  
  
The midnight sky was dark and pregnant with a slow rain that had been falling all day and was falling now as the two dark figures ventured out into the night and made their silent way towards the bleachers. They walked towards their destination the tension palpable between the two figures. When they reached their destination they still sat silently unwilling to break the fragile peace that had arose between them. Each sat close enough to touch but did not; for fear that the other person would reject the advance.  
  
So they sat for the time being, enjoying the velvet feeling that the air at midnight takes on and watching the lights reflect on the puddles that populated the ground below. With mutual understanding they shifted so that they were leaning against each other. They still did not speak because by now the silence had become comfortable and was evolving into something spectacular. They slowly became aware of each other. Spike became increasingly aware of the warmth where their bodies met, the difference in texture between clothing and skin, and the way that their bodies fit together. They turned to each other as their awareness became a heat that enveloped both of them, as their mouths met in the dark teasing, tongues moving in a rhythm done a million times before but new to them.  
  
Quickly, it became not enough to just kiss and they became more frantic, their hands skimming and caressing each other's bodies igniting fires that had been kindling since the meeting at the Bronze. These yearnings hidden under the thin veneer of civilization now burst forth under the administrations of hands and mouths. Hands that reveled in the velvety softness of flesh coaxed moans into the night air and were swallowed into the night's mysterious skies. He could not wait, and did not care to. This was not the one He loved. This was his food. Who cared if he had fooled her into thinking this had a chance at becoming something more. She was only food. He gave in letting her mouth drop to the pulse beat of the neck. He bit gently into the flesh enough to cause a few droplets of the drug Spike craved to mar the gentle skin of his victim's neck. Licking and sucking on the small hole He prolonged the exquisite torture of only barely tasting what, by now, He wanted more than his next breath. Spike finally succumbed and bit deeply into his food's neck ignoring the startled scream. He bathed in the blood glorifying in its taste, its texture.  
  
After He had drunk his fill and disposed of the remains he reflected on his increasingly complicated problem. He had come to Xander for food, on a night when he was drunk and depressed about the whole love/hate relationship with Buffy. In fact, it was after he had done the hanging on the cross and letting himself burn to show his love to her. (Spike mentally grimaced as he added the Buffy aspect to his increasingly long list of problems) He had stumbled into a coffee shop that was known for its great techno music on the weekends and met Xander, where they talked, which led to flirting. Two nights later they came together. Driven by their lust they found their release on a sea of twisted sheets and pillows; casualties of their combined passion. This coming together seemed to have been pre ordained it was so perfect.  
  
"Except for the fact that I am a fucking vampire" Spike snapped at the empty sky, " And a bloody poof at that." Therein lay the problem. How was He supposed to hide what he was from Buffy, to try and deny his cravings for Xander? 


End file.
